


Friday Night Takeaway

by Sue_Denham



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Fish & Chip Friday is a thing, Gen, Quiet Night In, The Doctor is a trouble magnet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27011581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sue_Denham/pseuds/Sue_Denham
Summary: “Alright, alright,” Graham shouted in response to the persistent bell and dumped his untouched meal on the table mat beside him, before climbing to his feet and heading to the door. “Look can’t a man have a ….” He tailed off as he pulled back the door and took in the sight before him. There was a bad tempered looking man in an ill-fitting suit standing directly in front of him, behind him stood the Doctor. She was flanked by two, much taller, uniformed police officers. The expression on her face told him that she wasn’t best pleased with the current state of affairs.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	Friday Night Takeaway

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a scene in a (much) longer story but it lost its place. As I fight with the longer fic I thought this was one-shot worthy.  
> Set in early season 11; just a little something between Thirteen and Graham. (I’ve discovered that I love writing scenes with the two of them.)

Graham was just settling down to a cheeky Friday night fish supper from the local chippy when the doorbell rang. For the first time in what felt like weeks he’d managed to get the place to himself and he was determined to make the most of it. Charging around the galaxy with a time travelling alien for a guide might seem, to the outsider, like a pretty unbeatable experience, but there was still something to be said for some quality time at home with a portion of fish and chips and an old episode of Sharpe on the box.

He was in that sweet spot; newspaper unwrapped, container open when the doorbell rang again. It didn’t matter that they weren’t allowed to wrap the chips directly against the newspaper any more, but it absolutely had to be there. It was all part of the essential fish and chip experience. He’d tried explaining it to Grace on more than one occasion, but he didn’t think she’d ever really understood. She’d just quietly drop a table mat onto his lap and warn him not to get grease on the sofa cushions. He looked at the food and then in the direction of the door. Whoever it was could wait, or better still come back later. He picked up the first chip and could almost taste the vinegar on it. The chip was halfway to his mouth when the doorbell sounded again; a longer push of the button and this time backed up by a firm knock on the door. Whoever it was didn’t look as though they were going to give up easily.

“Alright, alright,” he shouted in response to the persistent bell and dumped his untouched meal on the table mat beside him, before climbing to his feet and heading to the door. “Look can’t a man have a ….” He tailed off as he pulled back the door and took in the sight before him. There was a bad tempered looking man in an ill-fitting suit standing directly in front of him, behind him stood the Doctor. She was flanked by two, much taller, uniformed police officers. The expression on her face told him that she wasn’t best pleased with the current state of affairs.

He folded his arms, in an attempt to keep warm, as the freezing November air swirled round him. The man in the ill-fitting suit nodded by way of a greeting.

“Sorry to bother you sir. DS Covington, Hallamshire Police. Do you know this… woman?”

He gestured back over his shoulder and Graham looked to the Doctor for reassurance that it was okay to identify her. All he was met with was a sullen glare aimed squarely at the back of Covington’s head. It was not an expression he was used to seeing. She was usually the Energizer Bunny on acid; she had more energy and enthusiasm than just about anyone he’d ever met. She was the only person he knew who could wear him out with a single sentence, not notice and carry on for another seven just to be sure. This sullen, quiet Doctor was just…. Wrong.

“Sir?” Covington queried and the Doctor added her own voice to the conversation.

“Come on Graham, it’s cold out here.”

He was jolted into action by her uncharacteristically abrupt tone.

“What? Sorry, yes, yes. I know her. What appears to be the problem?”

“Are you willing for her to stay here for this evening?” the man, whose name Graham had already forgotten ignored his question and carried on with his own. “I’m all for giving her a nice cell for the night, but with it being a Friday and The Blades being at home…” he tailed off as though that explained everything.

Graham beamed at him, ignoring the black look on the Doc’s face and the way her right foot tapped impatiently on the floor.

“Absolutely not a problem officer.”

“She needs to report back to the station tomorrow, but I need for her to have somewhere to stay. She claims she has no fixed abode so…”

“Not exactly what I said.”

Covington paused and waited to be sure the interruption was over before carrying on. “Frankly I don’t need her cluttering up the cells this evening, but if she has no-one willing to take her in…”

“She can stay here, not a problem officer. Happy to have her, good to see her.”

Covington dipped a hand into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a slightly crumpled business card. He handed it over to Graham. “My details are on there if you need to contact me for any reason, and I need you to make sure she’s back at the station by 9AM.”

“Absolutely. As I said, not an issue.” He looked down at the card. “DS Covington.”

Covington stepped slightly to one side and indicated to the Doctor that she could move forward. “Perhaps you’ll be more civil now you’re with people who are unfortunate enough to count you as a friend.”

The Doc’s eyes narrowed further and Graham kept his cheerful composure together before she did something to change the man’s mind.

“Thank you DS Covington. Good of you. Now if we’re finished…”

The Doctor stormed over the threshold without a word, brushing past him as she headed for the lounge. She threw herself down on the far end of the sofa and folded her arms tightly across her chest. Graham closed the door on the officers, started to follow her but then stood awkwardly in the doorway, not sure what he should do. He’d not seen the Doc like this before. Sure he’d seen her get a proper strop on, but it had been a fleeting thing. She’d not struck him as someone who could sulk. But that’s what she was doing, and doing it like a pro.

“Come on in if you’re going to,” she snapped at him as she unfolded her arms and snatched at one of the chips from the pile.

“Oi Doc, that’s mine.” He quickly took a seat at the opposite end of the sofa and slapped her hand, causing her to drop the chip. “My Friday treat, this is.”

“Great. Two non-sharers in one day.”

Silence fell between them. Graham looked down at his meal and then across at the sullen looking woman. The look did not suit her one bit. This was not the Doctor he’d come to know over the last few months. “You want to tell me what’s going on?” She snapped her head round to stare at him, and he immediately raised his hands. “You don’t have to. Staying here isn’t dependent on that. You know that right? You’re welcome here any time. It’s just…. You don’t look yourself Doc.”

She waved the concern away, the edge of her anger appearing to melt away with it. “I’m fine… really.” 

That was a flat out lie, but he decided against calling her out on it; he knew from experience that it wouldn’t get him anywhere. There was one thing that he wanted an answer to though.

“Why the home delivery service?”

She shrugged. 

“What were you trying to do? Deliberately wind that Covington guy up? I know he’s probably not the most amenable bloke you’ll ever meet….”

“I’ve met more amenable Daleks” she sulked by way of reply.

“Fine right. Whatever. Not a clue what you’re talking about,” He turned his attention back to his meal. He stopped after the first mouthful. It wasn’t right. He couldn’t sit there and enjoy food whilst the Doc was in this sort of mood. He sighed heavily and placed the newspaper back down between them. “Come on, out with it.”

“Out with what?”

He pointed a warning finger in her direction. “I’m not having any of that. Come on. Why are you on the wrong end of the long arm of the law?”

“Misunderstanding.”

That was apparently all she was willing to tell him. To see her so reticent to talk was unsettling. It was usually a battle to get her to be quiet. He scooped up another chip.

“If you’re stopping, you can take your coat off you know.”

“What?”

He gestured, chip in hand, towards the coat that she’d pulled around her. “Your coat. Most folks take their coats off when they come in a house… mind you, most people take their boots off as well!”

She huffed, but made no effort to remove either.

If she didn’t want to tell him anything, he wasn’t going to keep asking. Two years of living with Ryan had taught him all he needed to know about sulky teenagers. He wiped the grease from his fingers onto the newspaper and paused to select the next chip.

“If you’re going to keep nagging…” the Doctor broke the silence and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling. She shuffled a little in her seat. “There was this protest in town. Climate Change. All very civilised.”

“Then you turned up?”

“Oi!” 

That response alone was enough to make him realise the anger was dropping away from her in waves and she was getting back to what passed for normal.

“There’s always something in town,” he told her between mouthfuls. “Save the whales, save the donkeys, Save the donkeys in Wales.”

She tutted at his gentle ribbing and lent back, tilting her head up to look at the ceiling.

“This planet needs people to save it,” she told him quietly. “It can’t do it by itself.”

“Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Who said there’s a mood?”

He stared at her until she picked up on the silence and met his gaze. She had the decency to look slightly abashed.

“Well this one guy wound me right up. Not easily rilled me. Once spent twenty-four hours locked in a small room with two bickering hexapods from Alpha Centauri. You ever heard one? Voices like chalk down a blackboard. Didn’t once give in to the urge to tell them to belt up, but this guy….”

“This guy managed what these Alpha Centaur things couldn’t?” He cut across her before she could embellish the story further.

“Peaceful protest and he starts shoving people about like they didn’t matter. Didn’t agree with them but wasn’t prepared to let them be.”

“So you barged your way in and things just sort of escalated?”

He watched as the corners of her mouth twitched in annoyance. “I did not barge. Stepped in yes, barged no.”

“Doc I may have only known you for a short time, but in my experience you don’t do quiet intervention.”

She opened her mouth as though she was going to argue but then closed it again. “I’m sure I used to…maybe.”

“You obviously ‘stepped in’ enough for someone to call the police.” He glanced at the TV screen and the flickering silent pictures that played across it. “Should I find the local news? You likely to feature?”

“Might have annoyed a few people,” she conceded.”Caused a bit of a scene.”

“Riot van sort of scene?”

“Maybe.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Hmmmm….Arrest or caution?”

“Caution but DS grumpy pants wanted to be certain I had somewhere to stay.”

“So why didn’t you just tell him. Why antagonise him like you did?” 

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yes it is. They ask you if you have somewhere to stay. You say yes, give ‘em the details they need and they slap you on the wrist and send you packing.” He took in the expression on her face. “Well… that’s what I’ve heard anyway. Saw it on The Bill a few years back. Never seen the inside of a police cell myself you understand.”

“Riiiiight”

“Anyway, this isn’t about me,” he tried to get the conversation back on track. “You’re the one who finally got their blues and twos dream come true.”

“No siren,” she corrected him and for a second he thought he detected a note of disappointment in her voice.

“They lit up the street good and proper. That’ll give Joyce at Number 27 something to bang on about.”

“Joyce?”

“The one you thought was an alien.”

“And you’re sure she isn’t?”

“Positive.”

“Hmmm,” she seemed less than convinced.

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still not answered my question. Why did you have to have to be delivered to my front door like some teenage runaway? Why my gaff?”

She shrugged. “Yaz’s mum… there’s a look of bitter disappointment I can live without.”

“So it’s alright for me to be disappointed in you?” he affected a mock hurt tone, but regretted it as he heard the earnestness in her reply.

“You’re not though, are you? Are you?” 

“Course not. I just wish I understood the reason for the police escort. You give them an address and they send you on your way. Where’s the problem?” 

He watched as she shrugged again and helped herself to a chip. He didn’t try and stop her this time. “Great work with the vinegar here Graham. Easy thing to get wrong. Think you nailed it.” 

“Doc!”

He waited her out and was finally rewarded with a heavy sigh. “I have no idea where here actually is alright.”

“You what?”

“They wanted an address. I couldn’t provide one.” She picked at a stray thread on the cushion next to her. “I’ve never looked. First visit, clocking your address, not top of my priorities at the time. Probably not even in the top ten, top one hundred come to think of it. Busy night all round.”

“But you’ve been back here since.” He was struggling to get his head around her admission.

“You led the way, or Yaz drove; well she calls it driving.” She shrugged her shoulders again. “I tend to leave the finer landing details to the TARDIS. She’s partial to a kerb. House number no problem, name of street…” she held out a hand and tilted it from side to side. “Now the ground’s getting shakier. Know it when I see it.”

Graham let out a laugh as he realised what had happened and why Covington had looked so angry.

“Just how much of Sheffield did you have him drive you round?”

“Felt like quite a lot.”

“Oh this is priceless.” He was struggling to stop the laughter. “Have another chip Doc. Think you’ve earned it.”


End file.
